


The Air I Breathe

by kiyala



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Combeferre, Asexual Courfeyrac, Asexuality, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1692917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre should know better than to hope for Courfeyrac to return his feelings, because they do relationships in an entirely different way from each other. Except, it turns out that's not quite true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Air I Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the ever-patient [Anna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/annaroserae), as always.

Courfeyrac is on a date. 

It's not really news, because Courfeyrac goes on dates frequently and had been talking about this one just yesterday. The point is, Combeferre is walking home from the bookstore with three new books he can't really afford the time or money for, and Courfeyrac is sitting in someone's lap on a park bench, kissing him enthusiastically.

Combeferre looks away and keeps walking. The way he tightens his grip on his books and presses his lips into a thin line has nothing to do with Courfeyrac and everything to do with himself. He's the one who has been ridiculously in love with his best friend for as long as he can remember. He's the one who pines despite the fact that Courfeyrac clearly wants more from his relationships than Combeferre can give.

Combeferre knows better than to think that he's broken or that there's something wrong with him, because this is just the way he is. It doesn't stop him from feeling incredibly _stupid_ for his unfortunate taste. It's bad enough that Courfeyrac is such a close friend, for all the potential issues that rise from that alone. Even if by some chance, Courfeyrac decided to like him back, everything only gets more complicated from there and the more Combeferre thinks about it, the less likely it seems that anything will happen. As much as he tries to keep his mind open to the possibility of anything happening, there's only so much that he can hope before he starts feeling pathetic.

He pushes it from his mind, angry at himself. There's no point in dwelling over this, especially when he can't do anything about it. Courfeyrac is on a date. With someone who isn't Combeferre. Worrying about the logistics of a relationship that is never going to exist is completely pointless and more than a little painful.

He gets home and tries to read, but finds that he's too distracted. He tries to do readings for class instead, but that doesn't work either. With an agitated sigh, Combeferre takes his phone out of his pocket and dials Enjolras' number.

"Hi Combeferre," Enjolras greets, picking up immediately. 

"Hi. I need to get my head out of my books for a while," Combeferre says, and he's glad that he's still kind of telling the truth. He doesn't like lying to Enjolras, and there are only so many ways he can avoid talking about his feelings for Courfeyrac. 

"Well…" Enjolras begins and Combeferre smiles. He can always count on Enjolras to be busy doing several different things at once. The more Combeferre can help, the less likely Enjolras is to burn out from doing so much. It works out nicely for both of them.

Enjolras talks about the rally that he's trying to plan, which gets them started on the best strategic location for the rally and when to hold it. Enjolras thinks that they should have it right at the front of the university campus while Combeferre argues for holding it somewhere with a higher traffic flow of students that actually have the time to spare to stop and listen and hopefully join in. There's a large lawn just opposite the library that would work nicely and while Enjolras is initially stubborn and wants to stick to his own plan, he comes around to Combeferre's suggestions. There's a good reason he's discussing this with Combeferre after all.

He ends up talking to Enjolras for the better part of an hour, first about the rally, then about other things as they come up. Enjolras is not getting along with his law tutor and it sounds bad enough that Combeferre doubts that there's anything he can do except to keep reminding Enjolras to stay calm and release his frustrations somewhere outside of the classroom to avoid making things worse than they already are. He isn't really sure how much that will help but Enjolras already sounds a little calmer for having vented and Combeferre supposes that has to count for something.

"How much longer are you going to be working in the library for?" Combeferre asks, checking the time. It's late in the afternoon and the sun's going to set soon. Not that this really means much when it comes to Enjolras. He's spent entire days in the library, lost in his own work, forgetting to eat until someone's reminded him to. 

"I'll be home in time for dinner, but I don't think either one of us really feels like cooking. Can you buy us something to eat?"

"Of course. Do you feel like anything in particular?"

"I'm not particularly fussed. Anything will do." Enjolras hums in thought and Combeferre knows that he's looking at the amount of work he has left. "I should be back in about an hour and a half."

"Sounds good. I'll have our food by then." Combeferre smiles and even if Enjolras can't see it, he's pretty sure it's audible in his tone. "Thanks, Enjolras."

"I didn't do anything but talk to you while I worked," Enjolras replies, sounding amused. "Like I always do."

Combeferre snorts quietly. There's a good reason that Enjolras is no longer allowed to sit on the silent levels of the university library. "It helps all the same. Thanks."

"Glad to be of help," Enjolras replies. "I'll see you later."

Combeferre waits for the sun to set before he goes out. Thanks to Enjolras, he can spend the time in between reading one of the books he'd picked up earlier and he's managed to mostly push all thoughts of Courfeyrac out of his mind.

Combeferre likes going for walks because the fresh air is welcome after spending most of his day inside. It clears his mind, helps him think, and he likes hearing the sound of the city and the people bustling around him. He loves the city and the people in it. Perhaps not with the fierce love that is equal parts devotion and frustration that Enjolras feels, but something quieter and equally constant. 

Much like the way he feels for Courfeyrac.

He sighs at himself, shaking his head. He's right back to this again.

"Hey, Combeferre!"

And great, just great, he's hallucinating while he's at it.

" _Combeferre_!"

Or not.

"Courfeyrac," he greets, smiling as he looks up..

"Fancy seeing you here," Courfeyrac grins at him. "You're going to that Indian takeaway place that you're addicted to, aren't you?"

"What can I say? It's a lot easier than attempting and failing the family recipes." Combeferre slows down so that Courfeyrac falls into step with him. "How did your date go?"

Courfeyrac smiles and shrugs in reply. "Didn't really work out. Turns out we're not all that compatible."

"Didn't look that way to me," Combeferre says without thinking and at Courfeyrac's frown, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I walked past you on my way back from the bookshop."

Courfeyrac raises an eyebrow. "And you didn't say hi?"

"You were… busy," Combeferre replies. "I… don't really know how these things work to be honest, but you looked pretty compatible at the time."

Courfeyrac laughs softly. "Yeah, see, that's kind of the whole problem."

"What is?" Combeferre slows down his pace because they're approaching the restaurant and he has a feeling that this is the sort of conversation Courfeyrac would rather be having outside.

"He wanted to make out and sure, fine, I can be into that. Except that's kind of my limit and he just didn't _get that_. Every time I say that I don't want to have sex, the people I'm dating just assume I'm talking about this time. Nobody gets that I just _don't want to have sex_."

Combeferre's heart is pounding and all he can manage is a very soft, "I do."

"Of course you do," Courfeyrac replies, shaking his head. "That's because you're understanding and open-minded and that's one of the reasons I love you so much."

"No, Courfeyrac," Combeferre says, louder this time. "I mean. I understand exactly what you mean."

They've stopped walking now and only notice when someone pushes past them. They both step aside and stare at each other for a long moment, until Courfeyrac clears his throat.

"I'm asexual," he says, his tone wavering in a way that suggests that maybe it's the first time he's actually said it aloud to someone. 

Combeferre gives Courfeyrac a small smile. "So am I."

" _Oh_ ," Courfeyrac sighs with relief and steps forward, wrapping his arms around Combeferre tightly. "I'm not alone."

"No, you're not," Combeferre murmurs, hugging Courfeyrac in return. "You're definitely not. You have me."

"Yeah," Courfeyrac replies, pressing his face against Combeferre's shoulder. "I do."

They stay that way for a while and perhaps if it were anybody else, Combeferre would care about the strange looks they're receiving. As it is, he just stands there and rubs his hand in soothing circles on Courfeyrac's back. 

"Do you want to have dinner?" Combeferre asks quietly, and when Courfeyrac's eyes widen, he suddenly wants to kick himself. "I mean, I'm about to pick up dinner for Enjolras and myself. Join us."

Courfeyrac grins. "You know I'd never say no to that."

:·:

Combeferre would say that it gets better after that, but that's not true at all. Of course he and Courfeyrac grow closer, but it means that Combeferre hears about every single date that Courfeyrac goes on. He has to hear about it every single time Courfeyrac gets disappointed by yet another person who doesn't understand his asexuality or thinks that it's something that they can fix. His pining hasn't gotten any better and if anything, it's only gotten even more painful. He stubbornly clings to the fact that he and Courfeyrac understand each other, that perhaps they could work well together. Except Courfeyrac seems more than happy to date other people and he seems to enjoy making out more than Combeferre can ever see himself doing. They might be similar, but they're still different enough that Combeferre feels that he should know better than to hope.

Except every now and then, Courfeyrac will give him a brilliant smile that steals Combeferre's breath away. He'll text Combeferre, asking to be saved from dates that aren't going well and when Combeferre shows up, he's always rewarded with a tight hug and it _hurts_. Combeferre hates that he keeps getting tripped up by his own emotions, hates that it's gotten to the point where he'll get home and Enjolras will pick up on his bad mood.

He's just about ready to give up and move on when they're lying on a picnic blanket in the middle of the park, Courfeyrac having decided that he wants a picnic lunch. They're both full and lying on the blanket, their heads just barely resting against each other. 

Courfeyrac takes a deep breath and says, "I canceled my date for tonight."

"Oh?" Combeferre asks, turning his head to the side and then stopping when he gets a face full of curly hair.

"Yeah." Courfeyrac huffs out a loud sigh. "I'm sick of this. I don't want to go on dates with people when I keep having to explain myself, explain that _no_ , they can't just fix me and no I don't want to try and let them. I'm just… I'm sick of this."

"Okay," Combeferre murmurs, only slightly guilty for how relieved he feels.

"All I want," Courfeyrac continues, "is to date someone who _gets_ me. Someone I can just be in a happy, committed relationship with and not have to worry about putting out or anything like that. Maybe I should just date you. That would make things easier."

Combeferre goes very still, feeling like his heart is caught in his throat. He swallows hard and his chest suddenly feels heavy.

"It would be perfect," Courfeyrac continues quietly. "We understand each other. I think we'd fit together really well, actually."

Combeferre doesn't listen to Courfeyrac's words because he doesn't want to. It takes him a moment to get his voice working. "Is that what I am, Courfeyrac? A last resort? The very last option, at the bottom of your list?"

"What? No, Combeferre—" Courfeyrac sits up as Combeferre gets to his feet and starts walking away. He sounds panicked as he calls out, "Combeferre!"

Combeferre pays no heed to it, shoving his hands in his pockets and feeling like an absolute idiot. He's going to get home and shut himself in his room and brood until he gets it out of his system and he _will_ get it out of his system, he promises himself. He'll find a way.

"Combeferre, please," Courfeyrac begs, running after him. "Stop and listen to me, _please_. That came out wrong."

"I don't think I want to know what you meant," Combeferre replies, his voice quiet and angry. 

"I should have just asked you out back then," Courfeyrac blurts out. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs shakily, looking into Combeferre's eyes and holding his gaze. "Back when we realised that we're _both_ asexual. I… never even though you'd want to date me until then. I thought you'd want more than I could give you and I can deal with that when it's other people but the thought of you wanting something that I couldn't give you… I hated that. I couldn't do it, so I just dated other people instead. And then you told me that we're the same and I should have just asked you to date me then like I wanted to, but I didn't want you to think that I was just doing it because we happened to have that in common."

"Courfeyrac…"

"All this time, I've been worried about ruining our friendship, but I'm really not good at avoiding that, am I?" Courfeyrac laughs unhappily. "Every single time I see a date go wrong, I think about you, about how it _wouldn't_ go wrong with you, how we'd have so much fun just being together. I want that, Combeferre. I want _you_. You're not my last resort, I promise you. You're not my last option. You've always been my first."

Combeferre's mind races to process all of this, while Courfeyrac watches him with a hopeful look. 

"Courfeyrac," he says quietly, reaching out and placing his hands on Courfeyrac's shoulders. "I love you. More than anything, or anyone. I want you in my life."

"As your boyfriend?" Courfeyrac asks with a hopeful smile.

Combeferre grins. "As my boyfriend."

"I'd like that," Courfeyrac tells him. "I'd like that a lot. I love you too. In case that wasn't clear."

Combeferre laughs softly, pulling Courfeyrac into a hug. They hold each other like that for a long moment until they finally pull apart and Combeferre nods towards their picnic. "We should probably get back to our stuff."

"Can we hold hands?" Courfeyrac asks, halfway to taking Combeferre's hand into his own. "Is that something you'd feel comfortable with?"

"Yeah." Combeferre takes Courfeyrac's hand, squeezing gently. "Hand-holding is good."

"Tell me if you decide it's not," Courfeyrac tells him. "Okay, how do you feel about cuddling? This is pretty important."

Laughing, Combeferre sits down on their picnic blanket again and pulls Courfeyrac into his arms. "You know I don't mind cuddling."

They end up lying on the blanket, their arms around each other. They're lying on their sides when Courfeyrac looks at him and asks, "What about kissing?"

Combeferre breathes past the sudden surge of dread. "I've tried it once before. I didn't enjoy it then, but it might have been because of my partner. I know you enjoy it, and I'm willing to try it."

Courfeyrac smiles, slowly leaning in and pressing their lips together.

It feels strange. Combeferre's lips are too dry and Courfeyrac's are wet from the way he'd been licking them earlier. Combeferre doesn't enjoy it and it's enough to make him panic, because he _knows_ how much Courfeyrac enjoys kissing.

"Hmm." Courfeyrac pulls away, pressing his lips into a thin line. "Not really your thing, huh?"

"I'm sorry," Combeferre says quietly.

"Don't be," Courfeyrac tells him. "Don't. You don't need to apologise to me. When I kiss people, it's because I can tell that they're enjoying themselves. That's what makes me enjoy it. If you're not enjoying it, then we don't need to do it. I really don't mind it."

"Are you sure?"

"Certain," Courfeyrac replies without even having to pause and think about it. He runs his fingers through Combeferre's hair with a smile. "I'm sure we'll find other ways of expressing affection anyway. Or we can just stick with what we've already got. That seems to work out pretty well for us."

"Yes," Combeferre smiles, touching the tip of his index finger to Courfeyrac's nose. "It really does."

"We're going to be okay," Courfeyrac murmurs, shutting his eyes with a content smile.

Combeferre believes him.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the 100th Les Mis fic I've posted on AO3? \o/ Yay!!


End file.
